Murder.com (17 page)

"So, have you made any progress?"
Kitty asked.

I nodded.

"So tell me about it."

I took another bite of my swordfish. I was going to
throw her a bone and see if she bit.

Kitty waited for me to finish chewing and then
stared at me, waiting for an answer.

"What?" I wasn't sure why she was
still staring.

Kitty raised her voice. "What do
you mean, 'what'? Tell me what you've found out."

I leaned across the table a bit, making sure not to
burn my chest on the candle that provided the ambiance for this
lovely dinner.

"Well, we received another
email."

Kitty perked up.

"The email was anonymous and
didn't really have any information, but someone knows I've been
poking around. They told me that I was on the right
track."

"Oh my. This is getting
interesting."

"I tried to trace the IP address
of the email but I came up with nothing. Right now it's just a dead
lead. Any idea who could have sent it?"

"Not a clue. It wasn't me, if
that's what you're asking."

"I didn't think it was you," I
answered.

"Well, you'd be right. If I wanted
to send you something I would just send it."

"Of course."

We continued to eat our meals
while I also chewed on the conversation. Once dinner was complete,
Kitty explained that she would have to be going. She had another
engagement this evening. She was hopeful that I'd get to the bottom
of that new email for my own sake. She didn't want to see me in any
type of trouble. She added that she had a hunch that it was Mike,
but she couldn't be too sure. She reminded me how nasty that first
email was that he had sent. I told her to rest assured I was
working on it, and if I found anything out I'd let her know
immediately. She thanked me for my time and for all of my
help.

"And make sure you tell Miss
Whitehall that I very much appreciate her help as well. I really do
like that lady, Max. Don't let her slip away."

I agreed with Kitty about the
female wonder that was Imogen, and then we bid each other adieu.
Kitty got up, received her coat from the coat check, and then
ascended the stairs, leaving me at the table. I picked up my phone
and texted Imogen:
She's on her way
out.

As soon as Kitty was out of sight, I ran over to the
coat check, picked up my coat, and headed up the stairs, careful
not to let Kitty see me. I saw her exit the restaurant, so I pulled
back and stood at the top of the stairs for a moment. I turned
toward the window and looking up over the sill, I could see Kitty
starting to walk north toward the car. I ran for the door.

When I finally made it out of the
restaurant, I could see the back of Ginny hurrying toward Barnes
& Noble.
She was supposed to pick me
up.
I picked up the pace and attempted to
catch up to her. Running now, I was nipping at Ginny's
heels.

"Ginny!" I called just before I
tapped her on the back. "Slow down."

Imogen, shaken by my touch, turned
and greeted me. "You scared me!" Then without missing a beat she
continued, "She's right there," pointing to Kitty as she walked
into Barnes & Noble.

"What are you doing out of the
car?" I asked her.

"I saw her walking directly into
the bookstore. I couldn't just sit there and hope that I'd see her
come out. There are a lot of people here, Max!"

"Look at you braving the cold. And
walking two blocks, no less."

"It's for a good
cause."

"Let's wait here," I said. "If she
pops out, we'll have to follow her on foot. I have no idea where
she parked."

"It's freezing out here,
Max."

"We won't stay that long. If she's
not out in ten minutes, we'll leave."

"Promise?"

"What happened to doing this for a
good cause?"

"I can't feel my
fingers."

We were now at the north end of
Union Square, which was still very lively. In fact, more lively
than during the day. People were bustling about, carrying bags,
stumbling out of the various breweries. Taxis were everywhere,
transporting people to and fro. Ginny and I just stood on the
northwest corner of 18th Street eyeing the entrance to Barnes &
Noble.

"What is she doing here?" I
asked.

"No idea. Book shopping? Looking
for a magazine?"

"I doubt it. Books weren't her
thing. Maybe just killing time?"

"Max, take my mind off of the
cold. How was dinner?"

"Warmer than out here."

"Very helpful, Max."

We waited about ten minutes and then Kitty emerged
empty-handed from the store. She headed in our direction, so we
rounded the corner and waited. Kitty walked within ten yards of us,
turned, and then started walking south toward 14th Street. Ginny
and I stealthily followed, drawing upon all of our knowledge of
tailing your target that we gleaned from our combined
detective-novel-reading experience.

"We can't let her see us," Ginny
said.

"Yes, I know."

"Let her go on a bit," she said.
"Then we'll trail her. That's how you do it."

People were dashing here and there, partially
blocking our line of sight on Kitty.

"I'm losing her," I
said.

"I see her. Trust me. We have to
blend into the crowd."

There were plenty of people for us
to blend into.

"Where the hell did she park?" I
asked, as we scurried along.

"How do we know she parked
anywhere? She could have taken the train."

I laughed. "Trust me. She
drove."

We were approaching 14th Street,
and Kitty hung a left, down into the subway.
Kitty Baxter taking the subway
.
That's a first
.

Ginny and I followed slowly. She was heading uptown.
We let Kitty walk a bit, and then both Ginny and I hopped the
turnstile. There was no time to pull out our MetroCards. People
looked at us. I think they were just shocked to see a middle-aged
white guy leap over the turnstile. No one said a word as Ginny and
I continued our pursuit. Once again I had my eyes on Kitty. She was
waiting at the far end of the platform. Ginny and I stood
mid-platform, sitting on one of the benches, heads down, trying our
best to remain incognito.

The train arrived and Kitty got in
the last car. Ginny and I ran and entered the car next to Kitty's.
The subway doors closed and then we took off, heading uptown. I
peeked through the back of the car into Kitty's car. There she was,
sitting, staring at her phone. 23rd Street, 28th Street, 34th
Street passed. I kept my eye on Kitty. She was still sitting. 42nd
Street. Kitty got up and exited the subway.

"Let's go!" I said, pulling
Imogen.

We let Kitty get some distance away as we followed
her through Grand Central Station. Where the hell was she going? We
finally made it into the main terminal of Grand Central. I loved
this place. I stared up at the ceiling. I loved the constellation
fresco. We watched Kitty exit, then followed her uptown on
foot.

"She's heading to BMC," I said.
"They're right around the corner."

Sure enough, Kitty strolled right to 44th Street and
entered the building. Imogen and I stood on the corner trying to
calculate our next move.

"Now what?" Imogen asked. "We
can't go in there."

"Let's wait out here for a bit.
See who comes out."

"I'm freezing, Max!"

I convinced Imogen to stay. We had
waited on the corner for about thirty minutes in silence, freezing,
when we saw Kitty's Bentley pull out of the side garage and take
off up Park Avenue. I could see the silhouettes of two people
through the rear window as it sped away from us.

"They're gone," I said. "We
really
need to work on
our surveillance skills."

"Who cares? Get me somewhere warm.
Pronto!"

After we watched Kitty's Bentley
speed away from us, we hailed a taxi and headed back to my car.
Forty-five minutes later, we were back at the brownstone. Ginny and
I sat down with a spot of tea, trying to thaw out from our
half-assed stakeout.

Kitty was indeed playing both
sides. That had to have been Mike in the front seat with her. But I
wasn't sure. All I saw was a black silhouette that looked like the
back of a man's head. It was taller than Kitty's silhouette. That
was all I knew.

I wasn't sure of her motive or why
she would want me to discover that Mike was indeed the one who had
murdered Ted, especially if she was romantically involved with him.
Maybe she needed out of the relationship. One thing was clear: I
needed to meet with Mike and dig around a little bit more. POP was
my ace in the hole. We had nearly completed our round and we were
putting the final touches on the deal between POP and BMC. There
was reason to celebrate, which was exactly what I was going to
propose. Drinks at Olives, on the corner of Union Square East, in
eyeshot of Barnes & Noble. Maybe he was supposed to meet Kitty
there last night. Maybe this visual might get Mike talking. Even a
touch.

I met Mike the following evening
around 6 p.m. We sat on a black leather couch facing the window
overlooking Union Square. The weather was cold but clear. Night had
already fallen, and Union Square had taken on the typical city glow
from the streetlights and buildings that surrounded its perimeter.
I ordered a scotch and Mike had a gin and tonic. We exchanged some
small talk about the upcoming holiday and New Year's. Was I doing
something special? Taking a vacation? Meeting family? I was vague,
as was he. I finished my scotch and ordered another.

"So I believe congratulations are
in order," Mike said.

"Indeed."

"We're excited, Max. POP's going
to be huge."

"I certainly hope so. Seems like
we're on the right track." I floated that line by him to see if he
had any reaction. Nothing.

"They certainly are. The coming
year is going to be huge for them. So, have you finished the
round?"

"We're close. Just about to
finalize the other three term sheets and then we're done. I think
we should be closed by Christmas."

"Well, kudos to you, Max, on a job
well done!" We clinked our glasses together.

Kudos. I never heard that word anymore. Kitty and
Mike were sharing vocabulary.

"Thanks, Mike."

We chatted a little more about the
round and POP. Mike was genuine with me. At least, that was how I
read him. But he was a calculating sort of fellow, so as he talked
I would try to picture him killing Ted. In cold blood. Sometimes I
could picture it. Sometimes it just seemed impossible. Then I tried
to picture Kitty and Mike together. How did that work? Mike was a
pretty controlling guy. Kitty was a strong personality. I couldn't
see that working out, but as Imogen had told me on numerous
occasions, opposites attract.

"Do you make it down here often?"
I asked.

"Where? Union Square?"

"Yeah. I love Blue Water Grill, so
I always find myself down this way."

"Once in a while. Sometimes I'll
grab a book at Barnes & Noble during lunch, or if I'm down this
way for a meeting. But it's rare."

"I'm usually here at night. I
never make it down this way during the day."

"I'm the opposite. If I'm down
here, it's during the day. I'll hit the Greenmarket. Sometimes Kate
pops into the city to hit Gramercy Tavern, so we'll walk around
Union Square first."

"I had dinner the other night with
Kitty at Blue Water Grill," I said.

Mike blinked a few times. Maybe he was reminiscing
about his outburst at Gramercy Tavern, when he left Kate conversing
with her dessert. Was that a rare moment of weakness for icy Mr.
Miller that he was hoping I had forgotten?

"You don't say…" He took a sip of
his drink then continued, "What did Kitty have to say for
herself?"

"You should know. Aren't you two,
well, you know…"

Mike started to laugh.
"Max…Max…"

Maybe I was wrong. "The other
night at dinner, you, well, lost your temper."

I didn't want to step on his toes.
Or, even worse, get him angry with me.

He was still chuckling. "Oh, that?
Kate can't stand Kitty…I just get tired of hearing it. Kitty and
I?" He really started to laugh now. "There's no way, I mean…" He
just continued to laugh. "Any-hoo, what did she want?"

"Wanted to talk about
Ted."

"What's to talk about?"

"His murder."

"And?"

"Well, she wants me to help her to
figure out who did it."

Mike was still chuckling.

"You're kidding,
right?"

I took a sip of my drink then
looked out onto Union Square. "No, I'm serious."